


You Don't Know Shit!

by A_Markov



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Comedy, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 17:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Markov/pseuds/A_Markov
Summary: “You lied to me!” Cassandra yelled.“You’re damn right I did!” Varric shouted back. “You kidnapped me and interrogated me. What did you expect?”They say a lie can travel around the world before the truth gets its shoes on. Varric’s lies are Olympic class sprinters. And THIS is what really happened in Kirkwall…





	You Don't Know Shit!

**Author's Note:**

> You don’t know what happened in Kirkwall.
> 
> Think about that for a minute.
> 
> You’ve finished playing Inquisition and you’ve discovered that most of the legends and myths of Thedas are, in fact, legends and myths. They’ve evolved over time and been filtered through the various cultures and now they’ve been exposed as flawed and misinterpreted. This isn’t surprising or even a bad thing. If anything, it fleshes out the Dragon Age world and gives us one more point of similarity to share with its people.
> 
> But that is ancient history, we expect it to be laid-out, trimmed to fit circumstances, prettied up and repackaged for the masses. Kirkwall is different. Kirkwall just happened. Seriously, like… last year. THere are lots of "facts" that everyone knows.
> 
> -Everyone 'knows' that a mage named “Anderson” blew up the Chantry. The tensions between the Mages and the Templars were already at a boiling point and this act of terrorism pushed the Templars to begin the Rite of Annulment. It was the “shot heard around the world.” And it plunged Thedas into a war between the mages and the Templars and we may never know peace.  
> -Everyone 'knows' that Hawke, a Ferelden refugee, killed the Qunari Arishock in one-on-one combat, ending the Qunari invasion.  
> -Everyone 'knows' these things and the rest, as they say, is history. 
> 
> But you don’t really know what happened in Kirkwall.
> 
> “How can you say that?” You ask. “I was there! I was Hawke! I watched those events unfold, powerless to stop them as I fought a losing battle for the survival of my family and my city. How can you say I don’t know what happened?” 
> 
> Simply put, the story you know about Kirkwall is the story that Varric told Seeker Cassandra and Varric is a storyteller, an exaggerator, an entertainer. He exaggerates for effect and rearranges the narrative to make it more entertaining. In short: he lies.
> 
> He even admits it! When you ask for personal details he tells you right up front-  
> “You want to talk about me? I’m flattered. Also, inclined to extravagant lies.”
> 
> He starts off each act of Dragon Age II with a story so outrageous that Cassandra calls 'bullshit' on it. After which, he sheepishly admits that it wasn’t really true, goes back to tell a little bit more of the story and ends up telling her THE EXACT SAME STORY! The one he just admitted was made up!
> 
> About the only facts that you can take from DA2 are the larger arcs. The Qunari were there. The Chantry exploded. There was red Lyrium. Nothing in the details Varric tells Cassandra is reliable because Varric, by his own admission, was lying.  
> In Inquisition, when confronted about lying by Cassandra, he boasts about it. “You’re damned right, I did.” He goes on to ask; “You kidnapped me, interrogated me. What did you expect?”
> 
> When confronted in Skyhold, Hawke is vague about the details also. Deflecting questions and changing the subject when pressed for details. 
> 
> Modesty? 
> 
> Regret? 
> 
> I don’t know.
> 
> I also don’t know what really happened in Kirkwall. And neither do you.
> 
> Until now…

* * *

The entrance to the former estate of the Champion of Kirkwall was quiet and deserted. Just a few hours earlier, there had been a mob of Templars and City Guardsmen accompanying Lady Cassandra Pentaghast, ( _Right Hand of the Divine, Seeker of Truth and seventy-first in line for the Nevarran Throne_ ). Now, there was only detritus moving lazily in the occasional gust of wind. The square, which the Hawke Estate shared with several other estate entrances, was empty. The occupation of the square was over. (And it had definitely been an occupation) The Seekers, the Guardsmen and the remnants of the Templars had dispersed and the curious, gawking nobles had retreated into their homes to gossip about the excitement of the day and to protect themselves from the denizens of the night. The sun slowly sank into the Waking Sea, deepening the shadows of the Hightown courtyard. As the last of the day’s light faded, the front door opened and a short, stocky figure with a bulky contraption strapped to its back slipped out. A carriage, pulled by two powerful stallions, hurried into the square and slowed just long enough for the figure to hop onto the running board. As the carriage sped away, it passed through a pool of light, revealing a well-dressed, blond dwarf opening the door to let himself inside. A few moments later, a shadow detached itself from an alcove across the square and flowed into its wake.

Several hours later, deep in the Planasene Forest, the carriage emerged from the dense canopy into a large clearing. The waning moon silhouetted a large, broken-down house in the center. The carriage pulled up next to the house and the stocky figure hopped down from the carriage and padded up to the door. It knocked in a complicated pattern. The door opened almost immediately and, with a quick glance over its shoulder, the figure slipped inside. At the edge of the clearing a shadow flowed into a copse of trees. A few minutes later a bird rose silently from the forest and flew back toward Kirkwall.

-

Marian Hawke, ( _formerly Lady Hawke, formerly Champion of Kirkwall and currently number one on Kirkwall’s most wanted list_ ) opened the door just enough to let her top lieutenant, Varric Tethras, ( _Merchant, mouthpiece of the Hawke gang and all around bullshit artist_ ) slip into the dark foyer. “Were you followed?” She lit a small candle.

Varric dropped his bags and snorted, “Of course, I was followed, Hawke. The Seeker might lack subtlety but she isn’t stupid. She wouldn’t be the Divine’s Right Hand if she were.” He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the wan light before he and swung Bianca off his back and gave the bulky crossbow a quick once over before re-slinging her. “But I’m clever _and_ subtle. The switcheroo at the gate threw them off.”

“How long do we have?”

“At least ten hours, possibly a full day.”

“Well, we’d still better get started.” Hawke picked up one of the bags and opened the door into the next room. Varric picked up the other bag and followed her.

In contrast to the foyer, this room was well lit and full of activity. A long wooden table dominated the middle of the room. Arranged along it were stacks of travel gear and provisions. The space around the table was filled with the members of Hawke’s mercenary band. At the near end, Avaline Valen, ( _mercenary, read-head and current captain of the Kirkwall City Guard_ ) leaned over a map. Next to her, Sebastian Vael, _(former second in line to the Starhaven throne, former first in line to the Starkhaven throne and current holder of the Starkhaven throne_ ) was tapping the map. “Here,” he said with the distinctive brogue of Starkhaven, “This passage is between these two peaks and will save us half a day’s journey.”

Avaline frowned and peered intently at that area of the map. “It will save you time for sure, but there’s no way a carriage will make that journey.” She looked down the table at an elegantly dressed older woman. “I’m not sure Leandra is capable of riding that far…”

The woman in question, Leandra Hawke, ( _former Lady Leandra Amel, former professional shill and mother of Marian Hawke_ ) looked up from her work of packing provisions into oilcloth and grimaced. “I may be old but I’m not infirm. I taught Marian and the twins to ride and I haven’t forgotten how in my old age!”

“I meant no offense, Leandra, I’m just—“

“I know what you meant, young lady, and I’ll have you know that I was married to the best con man in Ferelden for almost twenty years and I’ve been the mother of the best con woman in the Free Marches for the last ten. It’s not like I’ve never had to run for my life before.” She raised an eyebrow and smirked, “I’m an old hand at it now and I haven’t become so soft that I can’t live for a few days on the back of a horse without breaking.”

Across the table from her, near the packs, an argument was heating up. A young man in the armor of a Warden ( _Carver Hawke: Younger brother of Marian Hawke, twin brother of Bethany Hawke and-all around sourpuss_ ) and a young woman ( _Bethany Hawke: Younger sister of Marian Hawke, twin sister of Carver Hawke and little ray of sunshine_ ) in the robes of a circle mage, were both insisting that a particular stuffed mawbri be put in their respective pack. “It’s mine!” the young man whined. “Dad bought it for me when we first got to Lothering.”

“Then why has it been sitting on _my_ bed since we got to Kirkwall?” The young woman demanded.

“Because you stole it when I was in the Deeproads!”

“I was being taken to the circle! It was the only thing they let me bring!

“I almost died!”

Hawke strode over and snatched the toy away from both of them. “Actually, it’s mine. I stole it from the school in Denerim before they caught on to dad’s scam and we had to move to Lothering.” Before either could react, she tossed the stuffed dog to a blond man in mage’s robes ( _Anders: Healer, mage activist and occasionally possessed by a spirit of Justice_ ) a few paces away. “I assume you’re going to open a clinic wherever you end up, Anders. Use this to entertain the young-ones while they’re waiting.”

A dark-skinned, buxom woman ( _Captain Isabella: smuggler, black widow and self-declared pirate queen_ ) looked up from the dagger she was sharpening and regarded Hawke with a wide smile. “Stealing things since you were in grade school?” She laughed, “Are you sure you won’t reconsider being my first mate?”

Hawke returned the smile and shook her head. “Bella, you know I can’t take orders from anyone, not even when they’re as sexy as you.”

Both young people made gagging noises and pantomimed throwing up.

A slender, dark-haired elven woman ( _Merrill: blood mage, long-time paramour of Marian Hawke and the perfect disingenue_ ) put down the cloak she was folding and walked over to Hawke. She put her arm around the rogue’s waist. “Don’t encourage her, Ma vhenan. You start telling her she’s sexy, and she’ll try to make you her… _mate_ … again.” She ended with a warm smile for the rogue next to her before turning to the dusky pirate and sticking out her tongue.

“Speaking of encouraging her,” A tall elf, ( _Fenris: Mercenary, warrior mage and world-class brooder_ ) with shocking white hair and a large broadsword on his back growled, “sticking your tongue out at her is just as bad as calling her sexy.” The mawbri hound next to him barked in agreement.

Hawke clapped her hands twice. “Listen up, people!” She gestured for everyone to gather around the table.. “The good news is: mission accomplished. The bad news is: Kirkwall is burning and everyone there is out for our blood. We’ve got about ten hours before the Seekers find us and don’t think for a minute they’ll be the only ones coming. Everyone else will be on their heels. We’ve just made a king’s ransom in coin but we’ve pissed off a lot of people doing it.” She held up a hand and started ticking off fingers, “The Carta, the Crows, the Chantry, the Qunari…” She smirked, “and that’s just the ones that start with ‘c.’”

“Um,” Varric cleared his throat. “’Qunari’ doesn’t start with ‘c,’ Hawke.”

Hawke’s grin bloomed into a full smile. “That’s why you’re the writer.” She turned back to the room. “Point is, we’re all fugitives and we’re all being hunted. If we don’t scatter and hide, chances are we’ll never get to enjoy a single sovereign of our ill-gotten gains. We can hope that we’ve sown enough chaos that they won’t have time to come after us, but you know there’s always going to be some asshole who won’t let the little things go.”

“Little things?” The tall elf growled, “We started a war with the Qunari, destroyed the peace with Tevinter, plundered a dwarven Thaig, blew up a Chantry and incited a rebellion of the mage circles!”

“Yeah,” Hawke shrugged, “and some people will hold stuff like that against you.” She looked around the room, “You all signed up for this, you all knew what we were doing, and you’ve all been paid.” She leaned in and put both hands on the table moving her gaze around the room and catching everyone’s eye, briefly. “This part of the job is over but there’s still coin to be made so, listen up.” She waited for a minute to make sure she had everyone’s attention. “Varric, you spent the last two days as a guest of the Seeker, what did you find out?”

“They’re looking for you, Hawke, but not to arrest you.” He absent-mindedly scratched his chest. “They know you had something to do with all the shit that went down in Kirkwall, but they really don’t know anything about the rest of us other than that we were there.” He chuckled, “Fortunately, I was able to fill in the details for them.”

Hawke frowned and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, lighten up, Hawke.” He laughed. “By the time I got done, the Seeker was ready to make you Divine and canonize everyone in your little merry band.”

“ooohhhhkaaay…” she drawled, “what did you tell them?

Varric grabbed a mug and poured himself a drink. “Let’s see… Carver, Bethany and Leandra are all dead.”

The three corpses shared a confused look.

“How did we die?” The young man asked.

“Well, you got killed be an ogre during your flight from Lothering. Beth, died in the fighting after the Chantry was destroyed and Leandra, I’m sorry but your death was truly tragic.” He bowed his head and put a hand over his heart. “You were killed by a blood mage who wanted to use your body parts to recreate his lost love.”

“That’s… that’s disgusting!” Leandra exclaimed.

“Sure is,” Varric grinned. “And the Seeker ate it up. If it’s any consolation, Hawke arrived moments too late to save you but she killed the blood mage and you died in her arms as she held you.” The dwarf sniffed and pantomimed wiping away a tear. “Like I said, tragic.”

“Mother,” Hawke interjected, “That’s actually a good thing.  If you and the twins are dead, no one will come looking for you and it will make it easier for you to hide in Starkhaven.” She turned back to the dwarf, “Anyone else die?”

“No, but Avaline lost her husband to the darkspawn.”

The red-haired Guardswoman looked surprised. “You killed Donnic?”

“No.” Varric laughed again. “I killed your first husband, Wesley.”

“Oh, really?” She leaned back and crossed her arms, “This I’ve got to hear.”

“Well, back in Ferelden, you were married to a Templar named ‘Wesley’ and you guys met up with the Hawkes while they were fleeing Lothering and there was some tension between them, seeing as how Bethany is a mage and all, but you worked it out and he fought bravely and stupidly and got the blight and Hawke had to kill him before he became a darkspawn.”

“Did I love him very much?”

“Oh, loads.”

Hawke raised a hand, “Excuse me, why would she still hang out with me if I killed her husband, who she loved very much?”

Varric turned his palms up, “Because it was the only way for him to avoid becoming a darkspawn.” He turned back toward the red-head. “Good news is that you’re in the clear. Honorable guardsman… woman, and all. You can stay in Kirkwall, if you want.”

Hawke nodded clasped Avaline on the shoulder. “We worked really hard to frame Jeven and make you captain. If you can continue here, it would make a lot of our future operations easier.”

Aveline pretended reluctance. “Well, I do have a cushy job where no one expects good results and I get massive kick-backs from just about every criminal operation in Kirkwall. It’ll be a hardship, but I think Donnic and I can eke out an existence… for the good of the team.” She grinned.

“Fenris,” Varric turned his attention to the tall white-haired elf, “You’re an escaped slave from Tevinter who hates all mages. Denarius was your master and you only killed him because you were trying to remain free.”

“Well,” Fenris growled. “I guess killing a man to remain free is more palatable to someone like the Seeker than killing him because he saw through our ruse to stir up trouble between the Free Marches and Tevinter.” He cocked his head to the side and smirked, “and being known to the Seekers as a mage-hater right now is probably a lot better than being known as a mage.”

The dwarf turned to the dusky woman next to him, “Isabella, I made your legs longer, your tunic shorter and your bust bigger. You are officially the scourge of the high seas, the woman every man wants and every woman wants to be.”

“What about my boat?”

“It’s the biggest, fastest boat on the Waking Sea. Unfortunately,” he reached out and put a consoling hand on her shoulder “I’m sorry to report that you and that magnificent boat were taken by the Qunari and are now their prisoner.”

Isabella tilted her head to the side and thought about it for a minute. “If the authorities in Ferelden and the Free Marches think I’m a prisoner of the Qunari, it’ll take a lot of pressure off me and my crew during the smuggling runs.” She put the dagger in her hand away. “Just one question, what’d I ever do to the Qunari?”

“You stole their sacred text, of course.”

She nodded, “I’m such a naughty girl!”

“Of course, you didn’t do it for selfish reasons…”

“Oh, really?”

“Oh, really.”

“Then, why **did** I steal their precious text?”

“ _Sacred_ text, and you did it to free a bunch of slaves from your abusive ex-husband, Castillion.”

“I am amazingly selfless like that, aren’t I?”

“In my stories, you are.”

“What are the Qunari going to do with me?”

“Terrible things. Things that will leave you scarred for life. Things that, if you ever encounter the Seeker or her minions, will gain you a great deal of sympathy.”

“You are just the sweetest thing.”

“Fingers out of the chest hair Ravaini, you know I’m a one woman man.”

Isabella twirled the hair between her fingers and reached out with her other hand to caress the crossbow sitting on Varric’s back. “Bianca knows I’m a sucker for a good device, my bed is big enough for all three of us.”

The handsome man in the gleaming white armor cleared his throat, “What about me?”

Isabella smirked and raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t think you swung my way, but there’s room for you too.”

He turned beet red and began stammering.

Varric gently removed Isabella’s hand from his chest. “I didn’t forget you, Choir Boy. You’re clear to go home and take over. I pinned the stuff you did with Flint Company on the Harrimanns, which gave us a better excuse for killing them than the fact that they were cutting into our smuggling operation. Also, I told the Seeker that, after Anders blew up the Chantry, you stormed off to Starkhaven and vowed to raise an army to hunt him down and kill him.”

As the handsome man nodded in satisfaction, the blond next to him jumped out of his seat. “Why did you tell the seeker that I blew up the Chantry?’”

Varric shrugged. “Because, you did.”

“But you lied about everything else, why throw me to the wolves?”

“I never liked you very much.”

“Hawke! Are you going to let him…” He trailed off as he saw the stern look on Hawke’s face.

“Anders,” she said slowly, “the plan was to silence Elthina before she could send word to the Divine about our involvement in the local troubles, not blow up the Chantry and kill everyone inside.”

Blue lines appeared under Anders’ skin and his eyes began to glow. “The Chantry stood in the way of freedom for all mages.” His voice took on bass undertones that indicated Justice had come to the fore.

Hawke put a hand on her dagger and jabbed a finger at him. “We weren’t here for the mages, we were here for the money!”

The glow in Ander’s body continued to build. “The plight of the mages is—“

“NOT OUR CONCERN!” Hawke shouted. “ _Stand down_!”

“NEVER” Justice intoned. Lightning began to crackle along his arms. “There can be no peace as long as—“ his words cut off abruptly, interrupted by the knife that embedded itself in his left eye, the dagger that pierced his throat and the broadsword that emerged from his chest. The glow faded and Fenris tilted the broadsword down so that Anders’ body slid down to the floor.

“Maker’s breath, Hawke!”

“I didn’t want to kill him.” She grumbled as she walked over to retrieve her knife, Isabella's dagger and her stuffed animal. “If I wanted to kill him, I’d have done it in front of Merideth and Orsino for the full effect. But this shit with Justice was getting out of hand.” She set the stuffed dog on the table and began cleaning the dagger. “We’re mercenaries, people. We can’t get emotionally involved in other people’s causes, it just leads to trouble.” She finished cleaning up the dagger and handed it back to Isabella. “Anything else we need to know, Varric?”

He turned to the slender, dark-haired elf. “Daisy, I’m afraid your clan turned its back on you and cast you out because of your obsession with repairing the Elluvian.”

“I don’t understand, Varric.” The elf scrunched up her nose in confusion. “The Elluvian works just fine and Keeper Merethai tasked me with exploring the crossroads beyond it. Why would she cast me out for doing as she asked?”

Varric let out a sigh, “I know, Daisy, but I had to tell the Seeker something and telling her that we were bankrolling a Dalish clan so they could explore ancient magics with an eye toward bringing back the Elvhenan glory days seemed like a bad idea.”

“Oh, I see.”

Hawke looked up from cleaning the other dagger. “Anything about me I need to know?”

“Hawke, your story was one of my best yet. You worked your way up from refugee to noble. You defeated the Arishok in single combat. Along the way, you lost your brother to an ogre, then you lost your mother to a serial killer and then your sister fought against you in the battle of mages vs. Templars (because, like any good Andrastian girl, you sided with the Templars) and she died in the battle. Fortunately not by your hand, but you did see her fall. It was devastating for you.” He leaned back and spread his arms wide, “In the end, your boyfriend,” he paused and pointed to Anders’ body. “used your influence to gain entrance to the Chantry and, in a horrifying twist, betrayed your trust and blew it sky high. In the midst of all this chaos, you were staying strong in the face of adversity and trying to broker peace between the mages and the Templars. You, my friend, are a Maker-damned, tragic hero.”

Hawke let everyone digest the stories Varric had told for a few minutes then she called for attention. “Our resident bullshitter has bought us some time and some sympathy but we all know that time and sympathy don’t pay the bills. Avaline, take Anders’ body with you when you report back, it’ll look good on your record to have apprehended and killed the person responsible for the explosion. Sebastian, you get Leandra to Starkhaven and help her set up our next shell company there. Carver, you’re with Sebastian, you’re his new captain of the guard. Fenris, you head for Orlais.  I need you to meet up with Tallis and work your way into the Qun, I want to be distributing Gatlock by this time next year. Beth, you go with him. Far be it from me to break you two up. Bella, the Elluvian should be on board your ship by now, take it south and meet the Witch’s Dalish representative at the coordinates Merrill provided. Varric, you have the hardest job. I need you to go with the Seeker, find a way to get her to take you along… let her capture you… tell her you’re writing a new book and she’s your inspiration… whatever you need to do to get her to keep you around, do it. You’re my eyes and ears in the Chantry. Merrill and I will head for Antiva and wrap things up there. Keep your wits about you, and keep in touch, the usual way. With a little luck and some hard work, we’ll come out of this war even richer than we are now. Any questions?”

Carver and Bethany both spoke up at the same time, “Who gets to keep the stuffed Mawbri?”

When the laughter died down, Hawke smiled. “I do. Any other questions?” She looked around the room but no one had anything to say. “Great, we’ll be leaving in small groups over the next several hours. Sebastian, Carver, Mother, you guys gear up. You’re heading out first.”

-

It was no small task to quietly assemble a very large assault force on unfamiliar territory in the dark but the Seeker’s army was made up of elite troops used to fighting in unusual conditions. Less than ninety minutes after the carrier pigeon had reached Kirkwall, they were ready to assault the run-down house. The lookout assured the Seeker that no one had exited the house since the dwarf had entered. The Seeker pondered the house from her position at the edge of the clearing. The carriage still stood in front of the house, the horses grazing on whatever growth they could find close by. The driver, in silhouette atop the carriage seemed to be dozing.  She gave the order.

-

As the party began to disperse into their respective areas to finish preparations, there was a huge clamor from outside the house. Hawke slipped out of the room and headed for the lookout position upstairs. She eased into her vantage point, careful not to cause any movement that might be seen from outside. Her heart stopped. A sea of soldiers, Templars by the look of their armor were rushing toward them. She bit back a cry of dismay and forced herself to take another look. She breathed a sigh of relief. The soldiers were not there for them, they were marching past the Hightown estate where Hawke and her gang were holed up. They were probably on their way to the Viscount’s Keep. She eased back from the spying place and headed downstairs to where Varric was waiting.

“You need to learn to trust me, Hawke.” He grinned. “By now, the Seeker and her forces are probably interrogating my double at a house hours away from here in the Planasene Forest.” He tugged a glove into place and straightened his coat. “I told you the switcheroo at the gate threw them off. I wonder what she’ll do if she ever finds out you were all right downstairs during her interrogation.”

-

Cassandra looked down at the dwarf hanging forlornly between two of her men. “Who is this?” She demanded.

“He’s the only one who was in the house, Seeker.”

Cassandra grabbed the dwarf by his coat. “ _Where is he_?” She screamed, “Where is Varric? Where is Hawke? _Where are they_?”

The dwarf, obviously scared for his life, just blubbered incoherently.

-

Hawke and Merrill were the last two to leave the estate. Hawke caressed the gate post on the way out and murmured, “I’m going to miss this place. With you here, it almost felt like a home.”

The slender elf, gently clasped Hawke’s hand, drawing it to her lips for a quick kiss. “I’ll miss that big soft bed,” she smiled.

Neither hurrying nor dallying, they made their way out of town hand-in-hand. As the sun rose, they turned back for one more look at their home of the last ten years. Fenris hadn’t been exaggerating. Over the last decade they had toppled governments, disrupted trade routes and incited several rebellions from the comfort of an estate in Kirkwall’s Hightown. Along the way they had become very rich.

Merrill noticed the wistful look in Hawke’s green eyes. “We could walk away, Ma Vhenan.” She said softly. “We’ve got plenty of coin…”

Hawke smiled and nodded. “Yeah, but we’re set up to make tens of thousands more off the war. We could have everything we ever wanted.”

Merrill reached up and cupped Hawke’s cheek. She gently turned her face until they were looking directly at each other. “I’ve already got everything I ever wanted.”

Hawke stared deep into Merrill’s big eyes. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “We could just walk away?” She whispered. “We?”

Merrill’s smile bloomed. “Yes. We.”

* * *

End

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by two things; Varric's admission that he lied to Cassandra and a very old SNL sketch about President Ronald Regan.


End file.
